


You Me and a Birdie

by UnusualDrabbles



Category: Hemlock Grove
Genre: Domestic Spat, Established Relationship, Flashbacks, Fluff, M/M, i was never good at tagging things, mentions of injury, mpreg in later chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:01:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22218967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnusualDrabbles/pseuds/UnusualDrabbles
Summary: Roman looks back as the boys move forward
Relationships: Roman Godfrey/Peter Rumancek
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	You Me and a Birdie

Roman's fingers ghosted over a patch of faded wallpaper, the shell of a memory that once hung in a horribly kitschy frame. He traced along the god awful floral pattern, a mess of teal and brown, faded from decades of wear, biting back a tearful smile. Staring at the now empty wall, once covered in photographs and faded memories, it hit him. This would be the last time he could ever call this home.

"Roman?" Peter called from the doorway, final moving box in arm "Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah," Roman replied, his voice breaking "Yeah, just give me a minute." 

"Aw, I thought you hated this old dump." the wolf teased, shifting his weight to get a better hold on the cardboard box.

"I do, it's disgusting..." He gestured to the living room wall where a collection chalkware children once stood proudly on the shelf.

"But?" Peter coaxed 

"But this is where we lived when we got married man, that first night after our honeymoon," Roman laughed if only to fight back the tears "...This is our first house, man, our first home." 

He wiped the tears from his eyes, smiling at his husband, and the memories they made together. 

"Just give me five minutes alright?"

Peter nodded, "I'll go start the truck." 

As Peter headed out to the U-haul, Roman turned back to the vacant trailer. It felt so lifeless with all of the decorations gone. The collection of mugs Peter still had from his travels, novelty signs that proclaimed “This house is a home”, The porcelain cats that he hated so much

_“This place was bad enough to start with, do we really need to add to it?”_

_Peter finished arranging a set of ceramic cats, bought specifically to annoy his husband._

_“Aww Romie, don’t you like Mayor Meow? I bought him just for you ya know.”_

_Roman rolled his eyes, attempting to hide a smile._

_“Call me Romie again and it’s over.” He said, putting his arms around his husband’s neck, their lips inches apart._

_Peter lifted the porcelain pussycat to Roman’s cheek, speaking through it in an unnaturally cutesy voice._

_“You don’t like me Romie? Don’t you think I’m purr-fect?”_

_Roman pulled his husband into a deep kiss, guiding his hand back down to the dresser and making him release the figurine._

_“I want a divorce...” he mumbled_

_“Good luck getting rid of me now Godfrey.”_

As he started to leave, his eyes gravitated towards a hole in the wall, left there from their first big fight, along with the beer stain on the carpet. 

_“What the fuck is this?” Roman yelled, throwing a small cardboard box at his husband._

_“Your hair dye.” Peter said flatly, picking it up and handing it back to him. “Or is it one shade too dark for his highness?”_

_“This isn’t the one I get and you know it.” Roman tossed the box aside, shunning it like a child during a tantrum_

_“Yeah, well the one_ **_you_ ** _get costs three hundred dollars, and in case you haven’t noticed,_ **_Godfrey_ ** _, we live in a trailer.”_

_“Well whose fault was that? I didn’t ask to live in this dump. We could have lived somewhere decent. But no, apparently I’m too immature for that huh”_

_“Yeah? Where else would we go? A_ **_mansion?_ ** _” Peter spat “You knew before I married you that I wasn’t going to live in some overpriced glorified box”_

_Roman paced the floor, his hands curling into fists at his sides._

_“What’s so wrong with living in a nice place? Why is that so bad to you? Why are you so hellbent on living in a shithole like this?”_

_Peter’s tightened his grip on a now half empty beer bottle. Shithole? Their home was a shithole?_

_“You don’t get it. You’ll never get it” the wolf hissed “The biggest struggle you’ve ever had was deciding which fucking designer shampoo to buy. And I’m not gonna just sit here and let you waste our money on gold dipped diamond studded_ **_who gives a fuck_ ** _while there are people on the streets, my_ **_family_ ** _, who are gonna freeze to death tonight.”_

_“Our money?” Roman asked, never one to admit he’s in the wrong “You mean_ **_my_ ** _money?”_

_“You want it to be just your money?” Peter removed his wedding ring, an old family heirloom, and threw it in Roman’s direction, hitting the wall mere inches from his husband’s head “There. It’s just your money”_

_Roman tightened his fist before turning and slamming it into the wall beside him, rage coursing through his body._

_How dare he. Does he think he can just get up and leave? Abandon him again?_

_Feeling something crack, he released, unsure if it was bone or dry rotted wood. Carefully grasping his knuckles he turned, watching as Peter hastily packed his clothes into an old duffel bag he kept under the bed for this very occasion._

_“Peter wait-” Roman started, interrupted by a beer bottle crashing into the wall behind him._

_“Fuck off Godfrey!” the wolf growled_

_“So you’re just gonna leave me? Over this?” Roman gestured to the previously forgotten box of hair dye, a sharp pain shooting through his fingers. He drew in a sharp breath, wincing as he bit his tongue to keep from wailing._

_“Don’t pretend this is only about the hair dye-” Peter’s voice softened as he eyed Roman’s trembling hand “Are you okay?”_

_Roman shrugged it off, hiding his injured hand behind his back_

_“I’m fine…”_

_“Let me see it.” Peter insisted_

_Roman extended his hand out to the wolf, flinching as he touched it._

_Peter slowly bent Roman’s index finger, causing him to cry out._

_“I think you broke it,” Peter assessed “Sit on the bed, I’ll grab the first aid kit.”_

_Roman hesitantly sat on the broken mattress, weary of Peter’s sudden shift in tone. He absentmindedly picked at the embroidery of the faded quilt beneath him._

_“How many did you hurt?” Peter asked upon returning_

_Roman flexed his fingers, regretting it almost instantly._

_“All of them.”_

_Peter shook his head, chuckling as he started on Roman’s splint_

_“You fucking idiot.”_

As he made his way through the trailer, moving gradually from room to room, surrounded by the memories they’d created there, it all came flooding back to him.

_“I Don’t see why we have to live in this dump” Roman huffed, setting down a box marked ‘kitchen’._

_“It’s because someone needs to learn financial responsibility.” Peter teased “Remember Vegas?”_

_Roman rolled his eyes at the mention of their wedding night ._

_“Besides, this place isn’t all that bad, it just needs a little love and care.”_

_The Godfrey boy ran his finger across the counter, lifting the dust that resided there._

_“Maybe a little dusting…”_

_“...Right.”_

Roman entered the kitchen, giving it one last check for anything they might have missed, eyeing the jagged edge of the counter.

_“I leave for five minutes and you’ve already destroyed the kitchen?”_

_Roman sat on the floor, a hunk of formica in his hand._

_The ground was scattered with pieces of the crumbled counter. What remained of the counter was covered in what appeared to be a thick black tar, oozing from a pot on the stove._

_“Oh, not ‘Are you okay Roman?’ or ‘Is that blood on your sweater Roman?’ just ‘You’ve already destroyed the kitchen?’ Nice to know I’m loved.”_

_Peter eyed the small laceration on his husband’s forehead, and then the piece of the counter in his hand._

_“How did this even happen?” he asked, “What were you even trying to do?”_

_Roman mumbled something as he stared at the floor._

_Peter’s face softened as he lowered to his knees._

_“What were you trying to do baby?”_

_“I was trying to cook you dinner...” Roman said, no louder than a whisper “You’ve been so stressed trying to get everything else done that I thought I’d help, but I fucked it up.” He buried his head in his hands “I fucked it all up.”_

_Peter started to console him, hand hovering over his husband’s back._

_“Hey, hey it’s alright-” Roman cut him off_

_“Why are you still with me?”_

_“What?”_

_“I always fuck everything up, why are you even still with me?” Roman was mere moments away from tears._

_“Baby I-”_

_Peter fell to his knees, wrapping his lover in a careful hug. He caressed his back,quietly shushing him._

_“I’m still with you because I love you, stupid.” He grinned, gently wiping away Roman’s tears with the pads of his thumbs “C’mon, let’s get that cut cleaned up.”_

_“What about the mess?” Roman sniffled_

_Peter eyed the broken counter and still bubbling pot of what might have once been beef stew. He shrugged it off._

_“We can fix that later, right now I’m worried about you alright?_ ”

“Roman?” Peter called, bringing Roman back into reality “C’mon, car’s running.”

He made his way into where Roman was lamenting.

“I know, it’s hard to let go.” 

Roman hadn’t realized he’d been crying.

“Old memories are hard to let go.” Peter took his hand “So c’mon, let’s go make some new ones.” 


End file.
